


Something New Somewhere Familiar

by mimiviridae



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - After College/University, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bakery and Coffee Shop, F/M, Graduate School, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:35:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25623730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimiviridae/pseuds/mimiviridae
Summary: Sokka returns for graduate school and finds the Jasmine Dragon for the first time.Modern AU, slow burn Zukka, domestic Kataang.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 43





	1. Sokka

“How do they look?” Sokka asked, pushing his new glasses up his nose bridge. He had to admit, he could see a lot better with them on.

“I think they make you look distinguished,” Katara replied, stifling a laugh. Her brother had needed glasses for years, and always refused, saying he’d look “dorky” with them. Like one could look anything but dorky when they can’t see where they’re going. Actually, like her brother could look anything but dorky anyway. 

“Yeah! I think they look really good!” Said Aang, peering up from the bed. Aang had worn glasses since middle school, and between the shaved head and thick black frames he couldn’t look anything but dorky; It was a good thing he was so earnest. Sokka was glad that his sister had fallen for someone like Aang. She’d dated a couple of real jerks in high school, especially after they’d moved in with Gran Gran. 

Sokka looked at himself in the mirror, examining his face from each side. The golden-colored wire frames sat nicely on his face. He wrinkled his eyebrows and scrunched them together. He winked at himself. He was a pretty suave-looking fellow, he had to admit. Didn’t change how nervous he was to go back to school, though. Katara had insisted on an eye exam before going back, and his overprotective younger sister had been right about the need for glasses. He turned back to Aang and Katara.

“These glasses  _ frame _ my face nicely, wouldn’t you say?” Katara groaned, Aang smacked his forehead and flopped back on Sokka’s bed. Sokka had moved in with Aang and Katara to go back to school. Their bedroom was up on the third floor of the narrow row home, one floor up from Sokka’s. The third bedroom, across from Sokka’s and facing the back of the house, remained empty. Most of Katara and Aang’s friends were in her year, and so when they graduated they’d left the apartment anyway. But the rent was a good deal, and it was near campus, so they’d stayed. Katara, a recently-graduated nurse, got a job at the local hospital. She talked a lot about becoming a nurse-midwife someday. Sokka couldn’t imagine his hot-headed sister as a nurse, let alone a midwife for the longest time. But, she did well at it. 

Aang, in his final year of university, was studying to be an art teacher. The empty bedroom was full of his canvases and crafting supplies— He loved to make jewelry. He’d made Katara a necklace once, but she’d refused to take off her mother's betrothal necklace to wear it. He’d stuck to earrings since then. Aang even had an ear piercing of his own, a cartilage piercing in his left ear. Today he wore a small, silver hoop that was shaped like an arrow in it. 

Sokka sat down on the bed next to where Aang was laying. There wasn’t much room— Sokka had only bought a twin bed. It was time to get serious, he told himself. He’d always gotten distracted by romance in the past. Like when he and Suki had tried studying together during finals. The only thing they got done was each other. Suki had been his first real girlfriend, but she’d transferred after their sophomore year. He was proud of her, going to a prestigious university and all. But he had to admit he was a bit jealous, and he did miss her. 

“Well,” Katara said, putting her long, dark-brown hair into a thick ponytail, “I have a shift tonight, so I’d better be getting ready,”

“A night shift? On a Sunday?” Sokka replied.

“Again!” Aang continued. 

“Yeah,” Katara replied, “I have some of the lowest priority since I’m so new. It’ll get better, I’m sure.” 

Katara went upstairs to get ready, and Aang went to work on his artwork. Both he and Sokka had classes beginning the next day, and Sokka supposed he wanted to get as much work done as possible. Maybe it was that Katara was one floor up, but he could hear his sister crashing around upstairs, yet Aang moved around the home light as air. Sitting in his twin bed, alone, Sokka had nothing to do but worry about the next day. Like his father, he was going to school for civil engineering. When Sokka was fourteen, Hakoda had left to work in emergency management, helping people whose neighborhoods had flooded after storms. Sokka only hoped he could live up to his legacy. 

Katara ran down the stairs, stopping to kiss Aang goodbye. It was only 7pm, but Sokka changed into his pajamas (okay, fine, old boxers) and tried to settle in for a night of restless sleep. 

The noises of the city had kept Sokka up later than he’d hoped, and he’d slept fitfully. After graduation he’d worked for an engineering firm out in the suburbs, and he’d forgotten how noisy the city could be. Katara coming home early in the morning hadn’t helped, nor had the sound of her crawling into bed with Aang. He hadn’t heard anything, thank God, but even the knowledge that Aang would willingly be up that early taunted him. Noise-cancelling headphones would be a must. He’d gone back to sleep briefly after that, but the morning light was soon too much to stand, so Sokka dragged himself out of bed and down the stairs. 

The kitchen was in the back part of their home, behind the narrow staircase. It had a door out to the backyard and a small table in the center, with the oven and sink on one wall and the refrigerator backed into the opposite corner. The door out to the back yard was open, with only the screen remaining. Sokka walked outside. Maybe, he thought, backyard was far too generous a word to describe the concrete slab, surrounded by three cinder block walls. Aang had sketched out designs on each wall, they were just waiting to be painted. A morning glory vine grew up a trellis near the house, probably the only part of the yard that got enough light for most plants. The flowers on the vine were blooming in the early morning, the early September weather providing them with the cool temperatures they needed to bloom. Moonflower plants grew up the same trellis, waiting for the nighttime. 

Aang sat cross-legged on a yoga mat in the middle of the backyard. When he heard Sokka come out, he sprung up from his meditation. His warm gray eyes seemed keenly awake, and Sokka couldn’t have been more jealous. He wore loose burgundy sweatpants and a plain yellow t-shirt, both well worn and soft-looking. 

“Hey, Sokka!” Aang said, with all too much enthusiasm, stretching his arms up towards the clear sky, “There should be hot water in the kettle, coffee stuff, if you drink it, is in the cabinet above the sink. I'm a green tea sort of guy myself.” 

“Thanks,” replied Sokka, pushing his shoulder-length brown hair into a ponytail. His undercut, and haircut for that matter, needed to be redone. 

“Don’t mind all the tea stuff in there! Katara likes a cup of sleepytime tea to help her unwind after an overnight shift. I made her one this morning when she got home!” 

“Aang, with all due respect, I didn’t need to know that.” Aang blushed. “But, for what it’s worth, I’m glad Katara is with a guy like you.” Aang smiled back at him like the sun. 

Sokka found the coffee stuff easily. Aang was right, they had an excessive amount of sleepytime tea. He’d neglected to mention the excessive amount of green tea, though. Green citrus, pomegranate green tea and a very large box of green tea with no English writing on it. Sokka figured that was probably the good stuff. Sokka poured hot water through the beans and waited for it to drip down into his mug, letting the rich smell of coffee waft up to him. With his brewed cup of coffee, Sokka sat down at the table. Two thick piles of paper were left there, each with a note instructing Sokka or Aang to post them around campus. They were room for rent advertisements. 

> **Room for Rent— Third Room in Row Home**
> 
> **Three roommates, all early 20s!**
> 
> **Two cats, no more pets allowed, sorry!**
> 
> **Please contact Katara...** ****

A row of pull tabs were at the bottom, pre-cut with Room for Rent and Kataras cell phone number printed on them. Sokka made a mental note to put them in his backpack, before finishing his coffee and getting up to get ready. Maybe he’d get another cup of coffee on his way, he thought. The coffee here wasn’t great (he’d have to fix that) and he deserved a little treat on his first day. 

Sokka showered and got dressed. He’d decided to wear a nice pair of dark blue jeans, a white-and-blue raglan-sleeved shirt and his black, lace-up boots for the first day. He french braided his hair just over the top of his head, drawing the rest up into a short ponytail, the overgrown undercut loose underneath. He slid his glasses onto his face, and looked in the mirror.  _ Yeah, I look smart _ , he thought to himself.  _ Smart, put-together, scared of my wits _ ... He grabbed his backpack, careful to place Katara’s adverts in nicely. 

Walking down the city streets he felt almost at home once again. Sokka knew that many people didn’t return to their alma mater for their masters, but their program was good and gave him some money, so he gave it a shot. Walking towards the university, he passed plenty of cafes, doughnut shops and bodegas. None of them grabbed his attention, they were all so familiar, until he smelled something rich, warm and heavenly. The smell of pastry drew his attention to a small tea shop, called The Jasmine Dragon. It was sandwiched between a grocery and a bookstore, and looked quaint between the two. He entered the door, and small bells rang as he stepped through. 

The inside of the shop was comfortably warm, the air thick with the rich smell of pastry and the bitter smell of tea. There was bar seating at the counter, and some tables scattered in the front of the shop. Out the back looked to be a small patio with more tables. Inside, two professors drank their tea and played pai sho. Several chess boards and sets of cards sat unused on the other tables. Something about the cheap linoleum floors was homey. 

“Hello Sokka!” Called one of the professors, looking up from his game. It was Dr. Piandao, Sokka's undergraduate advisor. Across from him sat a man Sokka didn’t recognize. “Come sit with us a minute.”

Sokka walked over to the two men, pulling up a chair. They were engrossed in their game, but the man Sokka didn’t recognize stopped to pour him a cup of tea. 

“So, how’ve you been, since graduation, Sokka,” Dr. Piandao asked. 

“Oh, pretty good,” Sokka replied, “I’ve decided to come back to get my masters.” 

“A wise choice,” replied the man who Sokka did not know, “Education is always a worthwhile pursuit.” He moved a piece on the pai sho board, causing Dr. Piandao to sigh. 

“You win again, Iroh,” Dr. Piandao sighed. He was usually an excellent pai sho player, but Iroh won nearly every round. 

“Oh, I’m glad to be done with this game, now I can speak with our new guest!” Iroh chortled. 

“Dr. Iroh, what do you teach,” Asked Sokka. 

“Oh, no. I have not taught in many years, Iroh replied. “I run this tea shop now, with my nephew, he’s just about your age.” Sokka took a sup of his tea. It was bitter and warm and soothing, maybe even almost sweet. 

Sokka stayed in the tea shop chatting for almost an hour, until it was time for him to go to class. He waved goodbye to Iroh and Dr. Piandao, who had begun to edit papers for his own research. As he headed to class, he felt good. The tea shop had put him at ease and soothed his nerves. It was nice to have something new somewhere so familiar.   



	2. Zuko

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Implied/referenced child abuse in this chapter. Not explicit, just mentioned in reference to Ozai.

“I met a very nice man at the tea shop today, Nephew,” Iroh said over his dinner, “He’s about your age, going back to school. One of Dr. Piandaos students.”

“That’s nice,” Zuko replied, not fully paying attention. He’d made ramen for dinner, with ginger cooked into the broth. Either he was very hungry or it was very good. Since Zuko had left the naval academy in his sophomore year and came to live with his uncle, Iroh had been trying to get him to go back to school. But he just couldn’t imagine it. He’d be years older than all of the other students, and he had no idea what to study. He’d only gone to the naval academy to please his father anyway. Senator Ozai had years of experience in the military before he’d run for his fathers seat in the senate. Uncle Iroh had been in the military, too, and so had his cousin. He didn’t ask about it often. Iroh had retired to his tea shop, and that was that. 

Zuko supposed that if this student that Iroh had just met already knew a professor he must be in his second year, atleast. He was probably in his fourth, if not a graduate student. Iroh slurped his soup. The steaming broth made his round face flush. He worried about his Nephew, but he was so much better than he had been when he first moved in. The years of working in the tea shop had smoothed his rugged edges and softened his heart. The broad scar that covered one of his eyes had faded, if only slightly. After his father had burned him, he’d been sent off to military high school, and then the academy. It was much easier to hide abuses when they were hidden away. Now, Zuko cooked and baked, and hardly ever screamed at the customers. 

But still, Iroh knew his nephew was hurting. He’d wake up early to bake for the shop and to receive orders, and come in later in the afternoon to help with the study rush. The tea shop wasn’t as popular as some of the student cafes, sure, but there was a decent group of people who would study there. Iroh was excited to see the students again after the summer break, and hoped it would not make his dear nephews heart ache too much. The boy, young man now, lived with him above the tea shop, so aside from going on hikes he hardly ever got out. 

Zuko finished his bowl and washed it before leaving it on the drying mat. He knew his uncle wanted him to get out more, but for the first time in a long while he had been happy. The gentle rhythm of baking and the tea shop was comforting. He had let his hair grow loose and long, down to his chin, a sharp contrast from his buzzed military days. Most days he wore it up in a tight bun, but he wore it loose on the rare occasions he went out. He hadn’t dated anyone really since Mai. He’d adored Mai, leaving her at the academy was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. He’d heard she’d left too, but he hadn’t followed up. She was studying math, he thought, somewhere. 

Zuko rose with the sun the next morning. The mornings had begun to cool from the summer heat, which made baking much more pleasant. The large fan in the kitchen blew air over him as he worked, ruffling any loose hairs. He kneaded the yeasted dough, feeling his arm muscles work as he wrangled the mass. Zuko liked a sweetbread with his tea, loaded with dried or candied fruit. Today it would be orange and cranberry— He was hoping for fall. The shop was quiet this time of day, the tables cleaned and the games put away. The ceramic teapots sat in neat rows under the counter, a range of sizes awaiting their customers. Zuko had thought that his uncle was bad at business, endlessly refilling under-priced teapots without pay. But what customers didn’t pay for their tea, they left in generous tips and frequent visits. 

The afternoon at the tea shop was a sharp contrast to the early-morning still. It wasn’t loud, sure, and there was gentle folk music playing over the speakers. Kettles were boiling in the kitchen, and students idly chatted. A likely game of pai sho was being played, which his uncle watched intently. He stood behind the counter, refilling the free water jug with water and ice. 

The bells on the door jingled. A young man walked inside, looking a bit lost. His dark brown hair was braided nicely, and his warm tan skin complimented his bright blue eyes in a way that left Zuko stunned. The black joggers and light blue tank top didn’t hurt the impression either. The man stopped to talk to his uncle for a minute. The older man welcomed him in, and directed him up to the counter. 

“Jasmine Dragon, what can I get for you today?” Zuko asked him, almost automatically. He loved working for his uncle, but he probably asked that a hundred times a day. 

“Oh, no no no,” Sokka replied, “I need to settle a debt. See I was in here the other day and I was served me a cup of tea I never paid him for. How much would that be?” He had a few bills clutched in his hand. 

“Uncle managed to let you leave after only drinking one cup of tea?” Zuko asked. He had known his uncle to get strangers to sit with him for a whole pot. He’ll, he’d brew a whole pot just for them. 

“Well, yeah. He offered more but I needed to get to class. I’d meant to buy some of the pastry, honestly, and saw one of my old professors here. I’m not sure I’m a tea person.” 

_ So this was the young man Uncle was talking about, _ Zuko thought to himself, “Would you like a pot of tea now?”

“Yeah actually, how much for that and the cup last time?” 

“Four dollars for the smallest pot, that’s two or so cups. No worries about last time, we sell it by the pot.” 

“Oh wow,” Sokka replied. He did like a bargain. 

“What type of tea would you like?”

“Green please, I’m not too good with tea,” Zuko didn’t have the heart to tell him they sold four different varieties of green tea. Sokka handed him four dollar bills, and the cash register dinged, “Thank you, Zuko!” the young man smiled, and then headed to an empty table by the window. He pulled out a thick textbook and notebook, and got to work. 

Zuko readied the tea, pouring the loose leaves into the strainer and taking a kettle off the heat to let it cool for the delicate tea. He wondered how he knew his name— Oh, his nametag. Duh. Pouring the water into the strainer he felt warm and giddy. He wanted to sit down and talk with him, like Iroh did with his customers. Zuko grabbed a cup and put a bun on a small plate. He knew that the man had come in for pastry the other day, and hadn’t ordered any. Maybe he didn’t like sweet buns. He carefully carried the tea and treat to the small table and set them down gently. 

Sokka looked up from his book, and Zuko couldn't help but blush. The book was definitely advanced, tons of complex physics equations. So much for being on even footing. 

“I- I brought you a bun, since you said you came in for pastry the other day and never got any, so I thought that maybe...” Zuko trailed off. 

“Wow, thank you!” Sokka replied. This tea shop was amazing. He’d need to leave them a nice tip. 

“I’ll leave you be.” Zuko returned to behind the counter. The young man had flustered him. He didn’t understand why his face felt so warm, or why he’d even felt compelled to spend time talking to him in the first place. He was usually fine, if quiet towards the customers. Even Jin, who was a little too friendly towards him, he brushed off cooly. But now he felt warm. And he didn’t even get his name. 


End file.
